The Blacklist: Redux
by Pinky57
Summary: Elizabeth Keen is a married mother who enjoys a quiet life with her husband (who is not Tom) and daughter until notorious criminal Raymond Reddington comes into it. This is NBC's The Blacklist: Redux.
1. Chapter 1: Zamani

The Blacklist Redux:

Elizabeth Keen is a married mother who enjoys a quiet life with her husband (who is not Tom) and daughter until notorious criminal Raymond Reddington comes into it.

**Ranko Zamani (No. 10)**

**The Banker** **(No. 26)**

**The Chemist (No. 127)**

**The Innkeeper (No. 183)**

[The numbers can be found on the 'Classified' Blacklist Trailer]

* * *

As soon as the alarm clock begins to play our wake up song of the week: "Break Up the Concrete" by The Pretenders, it's time to start the day and there's no putting it off. I get up and stretch. I can feel the sunlight hitting my face. It's going to be a wonderful day.

Gabriel groans beside me. He takes my vacated pillow and smothers the back of his head with it, trying to drown out the sound of the song. On my way to the bathroom, I wrestle the pillow from his hands and kiss his cheek.

"Time to wake up, babe!" I tell him. "A very exciting day!" I tell him.

I go to my closet and change into a suit. It's my first day as an FBI profiler. I've worked very hard to get here. The D.O.D MISO (PsyOps) division wanted me, but I respectfully turned them down. That's where Gabe works. There literally can be no secrets between us, so there aren't. It's hard to keep things from someone trained in the psychological.

"I'll work on breakfast and coffee while you wake Mel," he grumbles out when I reappear in the bedroom.

I go into our five-year-old daughter's bedroom and smile at my sleeping angel. I walk over to her and sit on the bed. I brush her dark brown hair away from her face.

"Lanie, time to wake up. Wake up, baby," I tell her gently.

She suddenly pops out of bed with an exclamation of, "I'm up!" Her blue eyes, so like my own, are saying the opposite right now. But technically, she is awake.

She's beginning to come into her own person and it's a very entertaining person at that. She's such a happy kid and I'm truly thankful for that. She wasn't exactly planned, but she brought a whole new light to my life that I didn't know was missing.

Melanie and I walk into the kitchen to smell the glorious smell that is breakfast. It looks like eggs, sausage toast and coffee.

"Someone's been busy," I compliment Gabe.

"Never a dull moment in this house," he comments with a giant smile.

I don't think so either. I just smile back at him. After we've all breakfasted, I hand Melanie her backpack and we leave the house to take her to school. But as we exit the house, a small convey of what is obviously FBI vehicles show up on my front porch. I can even see a helicopter.

An emotionless-looking and serious Agent steps out of the car and walks hurriedly to me. He shows me his creds.

"Agent Elizabeth Keen? Agent Donald Ressler from the Washington Field Office. I need you to come with me right away."

"Never a dull moment," Gabe says in shock as he gazes at the parade that's appeared on our doorstep.

"It's going to be okay, Lanie," I tell my daughter with a kiss to the forehead. "Can you take her?" I ask Gabe.

"Yeah, I'll take care of this, don't worry," Gabe tells me while he rubs my arm comfortingly. I don't know what I'd do without him.

"I'll see you both later. I love you," I tell them before I step in the car.

"We love you, too," they say in unison.

The ride in the Chopper is awkward.

"Reddington: How do you know him?" I'm asked through the com.

"I don't. I know his file, but who doesn't," I reply.

"So you've never met?" Ressler asks me in a shocked voice.

"Of course not. I mean; he's a profiler's dream."

"Well, then. You're dream is about to come true because he said he wouldn't talk to anyone but you."

"You seem a bit put-off by that, Agent Ressler. You were his case Agent, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"Well, a man like Reddington wouldn't turn himself in unless it serves his purpose. He must want something from me. What it is, I couldn't begin to tell you because I don't know what the hell it would be," I tell him.

I soon find myself at FBI HQ sitting in the office of someone obviously important. I stroke the ugly scar on my palm as I wait.

I look to the corner of the room when I hear the sound of the door opening. AD Cooper walks into the room and I immediately rise to greet him.

"Agent Keen. Do I have that right?" AD Cooper greets me as he shakes my hand.

"Yes. Hello, Assistant Director Cooper," I greet him.

We both sit down and he just sighs. "Can you tell us what's going on?" he asks me.

_No, I'm sorry AD Cooper, I can't tell you what's going on right now. All I know was that when my husband and I were going to take our daughter to school, the FBI shows up before I'm able to appear for duty. _

"I honestly have no idea. I wish I could. I've gone through the same background checks, psychological profiles. I'm sure that OPR is trolling through my life right now and I can tell you that they won't find one thing connecting me to Reddington."

"They tell me today is your first day as a Profiler," Cooper says.

"Yes, sir."

"Do me a favor. Profile yourself."

"Well, my thesis paper was published —"

"I have your resume. It's quite impressive. Why choose the FBI over the MISO division of the DOD?"

"I don't like games, Assistant Director Cooper. Like most kids who raised themselves, I can show narcissistic tendencies. My old colleagues called me 'sir,' because they thought I was a bitch. I can be withdrawn at times —" I tell him.

"Do you find it odd that Reddington surrendered himself the day you started working as a profiler?" AD Cooper asks me.

"It suggests he was waiting for me."

"Why you? Specifically?"

"A man like Reddington doesn't do anything if it doesn't serve his purpose. He wants something from me." I respond. "And no. I have no idea of what that something is."

I find myself in what they "sentimentally call the Post Office."

Post Office or not, this is a Black Site I'm in. Ressler, Cooper and I are in something I'm going to call the Nest. I see Reddington restrained in the steel chair in the cage and he's just staring forward. He looks oddly comfortable in there. I imagine that man would be comfortable anywhere.

"Shall we do this?" I ask them rhetorically.

Cooper hits a button on the keyboard and the cage begins to back away from Reddington and I exit the nest-like viewing structure and descend down the steps. I can feel and see Reddington's eyes on me as I walk briskly towards him. I forgo of sitting in the chair and just stand in front of him. I've got to be anything _but_ submissive towards him. I've got to assert my dominance right here, right now.

We just stare at each other for a while. He's looking at me like he hasn't seen me in a long time. I don't know why, it's not like I know this man.

He finally gives a slight chuckle.

"Agent Keen, what a pleasure," he says in his Boston-accented voice.

I decide to ignore the pleasantries. By the way Reddington's looking at me, I don't think we have the time for them. "Zamani," I say in a demand.

"Within the hour, Zamani will abduct the daughter of US General Daniel Ryker. There will be some kind of diversion, communications will be scrambled and he'll grab the girl. He wants to be out of the country in 36 hours. If you don't move quickly, she will die. That's what I know."

I immediately turn away without any hint of goodbye towards the shackled man. I go back into The Nest where I left Cooper and Ressler. "Send SWAT to the girl right away."

"He's bluffing," Ressler observes. I have a feeling that he and I are not going to see eye-to-eye.

"He's establishing his value. You asked me here, you asked my opinion so here it is: that girl is going to get taken," I tell the two men.

"I've been the case agent on this guy for five years —"

I just scoff. "And five years has gotten you what?" I ask him heatedly. Ressler's just pissed because Reddington wants to work with me and not the guy who's spent most of his career hunting him down.

Ressler and I just look to Cooper for our orders.

"Ressler, go with SWAT to pick up the girl," Cooper orders him. "Keen, stay here and Profile Zamani."  
"Yes, sir," I tell him excitedly. I'm a bit too excited to crawl inside the head of a terrorist, I suppose, but it's the job. It's the one thing I know for sure. It's the one thing I know I can do correctly.

"What do we got on Zamani?" I ask the agents and techs in the War Room.

"Ranko Sinisa Zamani: Serbian National educated in the US."

I immediately start the profile: "Okay, so he's smart, organized. Plans ahead."

I bring out my cell phone and dial Ressler's number that I was given earlier.

"Ressler, if you get a hint of something funny going on, you get out of there. Zamani's organized, educated — he's going to ambush you."

I hang up the phone and stay with the techs. "Give me background on Zamani — friends, family, anything you can about his home life."

"CIA says he carries Nipah virus, it's terminal," one of the techs tells me.

This is good. For the profile at least, since he's already dying, he's probably going to go out by suicide by cop. "Dying makes him dangerous — makes him think he's got nothing to live for. He's probably going to make us kill him. What about Ryker? What's the connection between them? Since children are involved, I'd bet that it has something to do with family and his homeland."

"General Ryker assisted NATO troops in the Bihac pocket region. He bombed a chemical weapons facility there, —"  
"— Poisoning the village, yeah. So now, Zamani is going to do anything in his power to take from Ryker what Ryker took from Zamani. Nothing like a little revenge for breakfast," I quip.

Some of the techs just laugh.

I go back towards the box that cages Reddington.

This time I join him inside the box and sit on the metal slab that is supposed to be a bed.

"Zamani wants revenge for what Ryker did to his family. Ryker poisoned Zamani's home, killing his family, so he's going to use the General's daughter for revenge," I tell him as I sit down on the metal slab.

"Very good," Reddington tells me. "Family does make us act in an irrational manner. I mean, look at you: Abandoned by a father who was a career criminal and a mother who died of weakness and shame. You felt so betrayed by your own family that when the newest member of it was in your womb, you ran."

I just shrug, but I find my thumb going towards my scar to stroke it. Once I'm aware of the action, I quit. "You know my history, so what? You requested to speak to me, so I'd be under the impression that you were stupid if you didn't know about me and you don't strike me as stupid."

"It's hard, isn't it?" he suddenly asks me.

I don't exactly know what he means so I'm just going to tiptoe around him. Well, my version of tiptoeing.

"Profiling Zamani? No, not really. It's my job."

He just gives me a slight laugh. "Not that. I mean, balancing work and being a mother."

"Only those who don't want it to work can't make it work," I tell him defiantly. "At least I'm not one who sees my family as an anchor that needs to be cut loose. You might have it in your mind that you were trying to protect them, but what did you do, really? You made them vulnerable. Do you even know what happened to them?"

My phone suddenly rings and Ressler's name is on my screen. "Everything go okay?" I ask him.

"Yes, the girl and the General are in protective custody."

He suddenly cuts me off.

"Wasn't that rude?" I ask myself aloud. I look back to Reddington. "Well, Zamani's plans have been hijacked. But we still don't know who he's working with or where to find him, and for that, I'm going to need your help."

Reddington smiles weirdly at me after I tell him that.

I step forward to unshackle him and the guards immediately come forward, but I wave them off. After he's free of the chair, I bring out my handcuffs to cuff him. As I do so, he gently grabs my wrist and rotates it so that my scar is visible to him.

"I've noticed how you stroke it," Reddington tells me. I see his eyes rove over the peculiar shape of my scar.

He's asking me how I got it and to pacify him, I decide to answer. "There was a fire," I respond as he lets me cuff him.

"Someone tried to hurt you?" His tone is somewhere between a question and a statement.

"I don't remember," I respond.

And that's that.

We go towards the War Room and find that pictures are now up on the boards.

"At least you know what Zamani looks like," Reddington comments as he looks over the photos.

"You going to help us or heckle us?" I ask him sharply.

He walks along the evidence boards and laughs as he spots one of the pictures. He just laughs. "I haven't seen him in years. Very interesting fellow. Totally unrelated to this."

Reddington then goes to another photo. He takes it down off the board and puts it on top of another photo. "You're pointing at the wrong guy here. This is 'The Chemist.' He's a highly regarded munitions expert. Left MIT to work for the Russians. Last two years, very expensive freelancer."

He continues to look at the board. "I don't know what the Hell any of this is. Ah, the German: Banker, name's Reinhardt. He's most likely moving the money."

"So, Zamani's 36 hour timeline suggested a singular event. Given The Chemist and the Banker's involvement, there was probably going to be some sort of bomb and Beth Ryker was going to be delivering that bomb. Zamani was going to use Beth to settle the score."

"I have an acquaintance," Reddington tells me. "We call him 'The Innkeeper.' He runs a series of safe houses. Lean on him, he'll know where to find The Chemist. Find The Chemist, you'll find Zamani."

"Where is this Innkeeper?" I ask him.

"If I tell you, you have to give me something in return. No more restraints, no more cages. If you want to capture Zamani, he has to believe that I'm moving freely, in touch with old friends, staying in my favorite hotels."

"You think we're going to put you up at the Sheridan?" Cooper asks him.

"Keep your Star Rewards Points, Harold. The Sheridan is not my scene," Reddington tells Cooper.

I'm with Ressler (who's on the phone) and other field agents as we watch Reddington eat by himself. It's got to be a lonely life he leads. He knows that by having close relationships, he opens himself up to vulnerability and a man like that doesn't accept vulnerability. You don't last long in the criminal world if you do.

"Found the Lab. Interrogating the Chemist as we speak," Ressler reports as he comes back into the viewing room with the monitors linked up to Reddington's hotel suite.

"What about the bomb?" I ask him.

"Looks like we got there before he built it," he reports.

I pack up my legal pad full of notes that I will use to write up my Profile on Reddington and leave the hotel. I need to go home. I need to see Gabriel and Melanie and I need to shower.

I walk into the house. After a day with Reddington, a relaxing dinner at home is just what I need. I walk in to find the house eerily quiet and dark. For the past five years, this house would be neither of those things. By now, I'd have a mass of little girl attached to my legs.

_This is not good, _the little voice in my head tells me.

"Gabe?" I ask into the empty air of the house. "Lanie?"

When I receive no reply that is when I start to really panic. I move into the dining room and find Gabe sitting there. He's duct taped to one of the chairs and has blood all over him.

"Gabe!" I say as I begin to walk forward, but I see Gabe shake his head.

I hear the sound of a gun and see Zamani walk out of the shadows, aiming the gun at my head.

"Sit down!" he orders me.

As he's got a gun to my face, I follow his instruction. It doesn't take my training to know that he'd use the gun he has in his hands.

"Gabriel and I, we have been talking, trying to figure out how you knew I was in town, how you figured out my plan to take the General's daughter."

I pay no attention to Zamani. "Gabe, look at me," I beg of him.

"Your people came for my Chemist friend. You saved me payment for services, for that, I thank you. You know, Reddington, my old friend, he is always so obsessed with you, not sure why," Zamani tells me.

"Where's my daughter?" I ask Zamani.

"Your daughter is to become a martyr," Zamani says as he drives a knife into Gabe's abdomen. Zamani then leaves.

I scream right along with Gabe. I take tape off of his mouth and he whispers one word to me before he passes out. That one word is "Bernstein." It's our code word that means forget about me and go do what you need to do. It comes from the _Bernstein Bears_ children's books.

Time to go into Mama Bear mode.

I pick up the phone and call 911. As soon as the paramedics come, I go straight to the hotel.

I go barging into Reddington's suite. I find him at the dining table doing something with a newspaper. It looks like he's trying to do the crossword in pen.

"He's not done!" I scream at Reddington. "Did you send him? Are you the one who did this?"

"Did what?" Reddington asks me nonchalantly.

"He was in my house!" I shout.

"Calm down and tell me what happened," Reddington tells me.

"CALM DOWN?! You expect me to calm down?! He's got my daughter! My daughter has taken the place of Beth Ryker and you know what that means? It means that he's going to strap a bomb to her! Because of you! He said your name!"

Reddington's face shifts away from the hard bravado.

"Ah, I see. Was that not the plan? You get your friend to make a house visit, get him to tell me that you're obsessed with me, but taking my daughter was not part of the deal, is that it? If anything happens to her, I will personally make sure they bury you in a goddamn hole so deep — or better yet, I'm sure there is some sick, twisted, sadistic people out there who'd _just love_ the chance for a little sit down with you. And if you think I'm incapable of doing something like that, you keep one thing in mind: you're _nothing_ to me."

I march back out of the room. I put my cell phone to my ear and call Ressler. I fill him in on what happened.

"Since we foiled Zamani's plans, he's going to want the biggest cluster of kids around, so I'd recommend securing all zoos, parks, playgrounds and the like."

Based on a whim, I go to the Zoo first. I seem to have been the first Agent to show up. I show my credentials to the girl behind the entrance and she allows me in.

I don't want to call Melanie's name because she might run to me and trigger the bomb that could be on a pressure switch. I look around for her. I finally see her on a secluded bench. I get out my cell and call Ressler.

"DC Zoo," is all I say before I hang up and move towards Melanie. "Lanie!" I shout at her as I run towards her. "Stay there, baby! Stay right there."

"Mommy!" she sobs out in relief.

I look into her terrified blue eyes and her fear leaches into me. I unzip her jacket to find wires all around her.

"He said not to take it off," Melanie tells me.

"Good girl," I tell her.

I look at her backpack and see that there is less than three minutes remaining. My cell phone rings and I immediately answer it.

"Whatever you do, don't touch it," Reddington tells me.

Easy enough for him to say, he's not here and this isn't his daughter sitting here terrified with a bomb strapped to her.

"There's less than three minutes left. I have to evacuate and call the bomb squad."

"You're people will never get there in time. My friend is on his way," Reddington tells me.

He hangs up after that. Soon after that, a man comes running towards us and plops a bag down on the bench beside Melanie. He starts talking to me in Russian. I can only understand some of what he's saying. I'm too flustered to be listening to him. I can speak and understand Russian just fine. I just don't feel like carrying on a conversation with the guy.

"Are we going to be okay?" Melanie asks me as

"Of course, baby. We're going to be okay," I tell her as I move the hair away from her face.

She grabs my wrist on the way down and starts stroking my scar. When I hear the bomb start to beep rapidly, I lean my forehead against my daughter's and I do something I haven't done in over a decade: I pray.

It apparently worked. He shouts out in victory. He takes the bomb out of the backpack Melanie has on and starts running away. As soon as she's clear, I pick her up and hold her to me. She wraps her legs around my waist and sobs into my neck.

"Consider the device his payment," Reddington says as he appears.

Just then the Agents start swarming in like bees to the hive. Ressler is the first to appear. He immediately goes to Reddington and cuffs him.

I sit Melanie and myself down on the bench.

"We're going to be a great team," Reddington tells me.

"Go burn in Hell," I tell him, standing up. "Better yet, stay there," I say in passing.

I walk us to the car. Lanie's calmed down a bit. I look into the round, young face that houses my own blue eyes and I feel at peace.

"What d'ya say we go see Daddy?" I ask her.

Lanie gives me a big grin in response and just hugs herself tighter to me.

I wonder what they're doing with Reddington. I hope that they're going put him in his place and not give in to the insane demands that he no doubt has. I imagine that there is an immunity deal somewhere in there. I seriously hope that they won't.

Lanie and I arrive at the hospital and I walk towards the room number the reception desk gave me. As we walk hand-in-hand towards the room, I can hear two male voices laughing.

"Are we interrupting?" I ask them.

The man Gabe is talking is a Doctor.

"Hello, Mrs. and Miss Keen," Gabriel greets us with a smile.

"Daddy!" Melanie says excitedly as she jumps onto Gabe's bed.

"Oof! Easy, Mel-Bell," Gabriel tells her softly as he carefully brings her into his arms. He gives her a raspberry on the cheek.

"Take it easy, all right?" the doctor tells him.

"Thanks, Doc," Gabriel responds.

Once were alone, Gabriel just looks at me. "Good job, Mama Bear."

I just nod silently. This is slightly awkward.

"Number 4 turned himself in," I tell him. He knows who Number 4 is.

"I figured it had something to do with Reddington when I heard Zamani say his name."

"I'm so sorry," I tell him. I walk forward and grab his hand and keep it in mine.

Gabriel has a look of pure confusion on his face. "What for, babe?"

"Reddington's request was that he speak with me. Whatever reason he had for surrendering has to deal with me. He knows about me, Gabe. He knows my history. He even knows that I ran when I first found out I was pregnant."

Tears start pouring out of my eyes before I can stop them.

"Hey," Gabe tells me softly. "You didn't hold the knife. You didn't tell Zamani to come into our home. The only thing you did was save our girl."

"I know, but —" I begin to say.

"No 'buts.' Listen to me; Reddington is a narcissistic psychopath who wouldn't blink an eye while burning the world down were it to serve his purpose. Trust me — who do you think got him to Brussels so Ressler could try and kill him?"

"What?" I ask him, bewildered.

"The Brussels Op was a DOD/FBI joint task force which is why I plan on asking Cooper if I can join the Reddington task force."

"You're serious?" I ask him.

"Deadly."

"You're going to have to Profile me," I tell Gabe.

Gabe's green eyes shine with the confusion that is clearly plastered all over his face. "Profile you?"

"Alive or dead, I'm Reddington's victim."


	2. Chapter 2: The Freelancer

**Chapter 2: **

**The Freelancer (No. 145)**

I sit hooked up to the Lie Detector and all I keep thinking is that this is a waste of time.

"Monday, 9:07 AM. Examiner Hatch. Subject: Elizabeth Scott Keen. Here we go. Before Monday of last week, did you have or have you ever had personal contact with Raymond Reddington?"

"No."

"Did Reddington notify you before he surrendered himself to the FBI?"

"No."

"Have you ever been convicted of a crime?"

"No."

"Does Raymond Reddington know, or has he ever known, your husband?"

"No."

"Have you been truthful to the best of your knowledge?"

"Yes."

See, people. That was a big waste of time. I don't know Reddington. He's nothing to me. But I must be something to him because here I am once again…. I'm the only person he'll talk to (Unfortunately for me). I walk towards him while in my skirt suit and heels and get myself up on his level.

"Tell me about the train wreck," I tell him.

He just laughs. "Do you have any idea how far I've traveled to see you again, Lizzie?"

"It's Agent Keen. Now, I've heard all your demands but I don't think you've heard mine so let me tell you how this is gonna work: I ask the questions, you answer them. Screw with me and I walk. Do you understood me?"

"How are Gabriel and Melanie?" Reddington asks me.

I ignore him. "They're not going to give you immunity, not a chance."

"Oh, I think they will. Otherwise, what am I doing here? I'm perfectly happy to go back to the boat."

"The train wreck," I say again, hoping to get him back on target.

"The train accident was no accident — you know that. But what you don't know is that the man behind it is quite prolific. He's responsible for a slew of other premeditated killings just like this one, disguised as accidents. Shall I go on?" he asks me as he gestures with his hands.

I motion for one of the guards to cut him loose.

"A building collapses in Moscow. A ferry capsizes on an Indian River. These are the events we've come to expect on the evening news. But in truth, there's always more to the story. Hidden in the facts, figures, the victims and heroes, there's always murder. The work of a man who disguises his killings in the headlines of everyday tragedies."

"What proof do you have?" Ressler asks him.

I answer before Reddington can. "It's in the victims — A Judge in Ohio, a French Diplomat who dies in a plane crash. I know you don't believe in Profiling, Ressler, but there's a pattern. There's _always_ a pattern."  
"Over the last seven years, more than 3,000 innocent civilians have died as a direct result of this man's unique method."

"He's a symphoraphiliac," I observe as I hear the sound of Cooper's door opening. He and Gabe come down and I can't help but to slightly gawk at my husband's prowess as he comes down the stairs. He came here to deliver his Profile of me to Cooper and to ask him to join the team.

"A what?" Ressler asks me.

"He gets off on disasters," I respond. "It probably stems from losing someone to an accident. His parents or someone close might have gotten killed by a drunk driver, fire — something along those lines."

"In the 20-odd years I've been working my side of the tracks, I've never met a contractor who's had a significant impact on the civilian population as he. He's rivaled only by governments and terrorist organizations," Reddington continues. "And you've never heard of him. I have it on good authority that his next contract will take him to New York. This is not an opportunity to ponder or deliberate. Once he's done, he's gone."

"Does this guy have a name?" Cooper asks him as he and Gabe join us. I assume that Gabe's been granted permission to stay on as some sort of liaison.

"They call him 'The Freelancer,'" Reddington responds.

I step forward and look up at the photos on the monitors. "This is some of the most organized work I've seen. He's a white male that I'd put in his late thirties to early forties. No kid could do this. He lives alone, probably in an apartment, and he's completely mission-oriented. Maybe even with a touch of OCD. He'll be clean-shaven and have good posture. He'll be average-looking." I turn around to see that everyone is looking at me. This is what I do: I profile. I wouldn't have been able to go through Quantico if I was unable to do this.

Gabe just gives me a smile.

"The only way to stop a mission-oriented Unsub is to catch him," I report to the team.

"How do we find him?" Cooper asks Reddington.

Reddington just looks smug. He's a narcissist if I've ever seen one. "You don't. I do," he says smugly.

"You two pen pals? You guys send each other coded emails?" Ressler asks him. He's trying to be funny, it's just not working.

Gabe rolls his eyes.

"I don't have email, or a phone, or an address," Reddington replies. "I prefer to handle my business face-to-face."

"You've met him?" I ask him. He could have said that before I started to profile this 'Freelancer.'

"Once. I brokered a few jobs. He works through an intermediary. He might be for sale. Perhaps I should set a meeting," Reddington says a bit too happily. He's looking at me as he says this. Ugh. Talk about creepy.

"Maybe you should," I tell him.

"You should come," Reddington responds as he leans forward and begins walking towards me like a lion. "Just the two of us. No wires, no clumsy agents in the bushes. You want me to make an introduction, you need to trust me with my source."

Cooper just looks at me and gives me a smile.

"Ah! What fun. You'll need a dress," Reddington tells me as he touches my elbow.

"And where would this meeting be?" Cooper asks him.

"Montreal," Reddington responds.

_Canada?_ I have to go to Canada _tonight_?

We go home first so that I can change into a dress and grab a go-bag just in case.

"Nervous?" he asks me.

"How'd you know?" I ask him, even though I know it's obvious.

"Despite the obvious discomfort you have at leaving your still-healing husband behind all alone, you don't seem too psyched. Pun intended."

"Good to know you're in good spirits," I tell him.

"You can't let a psychopath get you down," Gabe tells me. "Anyway, I'll call my parents and see if they can watch Mel tonight."

"All right," I sigh, relieved. "I'll see you later."

"It's a date. Hey, take this," Gabe suddenly tells me. He hands me a small box.

I open it to find an earwig inside. I just look up towards Gabe. "You really know how to woo a girl."

He just laughs. "I just wanted a direct line to you. He'll try to manipulate you, and gain whatever trust he can. I want me in your head before he gets there."

"I'll appreciate that," I tell him when I give him a kiss.

"Be careful."

Reddington and I find ourselves in a cab outside of the restaurant.

Reddington gets out of the cab and so do I. I get out to see him halfway around the cab. He was apparently going to open my door for me.

"Sorry, habit of an independent," I apologize. "It drives Gabe nuts sometimes."

"_You better believe it does_," Gabe replies in my ear through the small device.

"So what does this liaison look like?"

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Reddington says as we make our way to the restaurant.

I mentally curse my choice of pointy high heels as we walk.

I cannot possibly imagine a more uncomfortable situation then the one I am finding myself in right now. I'm on my way to what will appear to be a dinner date to everyone else, when in reality, we're on our way to some kind of meet. I'm going to be sitting at the same dining table as a career criminal.

Remind me how we got here again.

Oh, right. I wasn't given a choice.

"_Relax, Liz. You'll be fine_," Gabriel tells me. If only it were that simple to believe.

I keep my eye on Reddington as he gives his hat to the man who is standing beside the podium. When he turns back around, I see him readjust his sleeve.

"_Watch him_," I hear Gabe mummer. He's talking to himself.

I make a mental note to keep watch for more of the same movement. Just like with every time I'm with him, I watch his every move, listen carefully to what he says. Profiling him is like taking a nine-year-old girl to Disneyland. It's enthralling and I admit, a bit overwhelming.

"If anyone asks, you're my girlfriend from Ann Arbor," Red says as we float through the crowd and to a table that is right against a column.

_Gabe scoffs in my ear. _

Afraid of vulnerability — _check_.

I scoff. "Absolutely not," I tell him sternly.

Reddington just laughs. "Then you can be my daughter," he says oddly as he chivalrously pulls my chair out.

"_Interesting_," Gabriel comments.

I suddenly feel something tug at my mind as if it's a drowning person wanting the oxygen that is at the water's surface, but he or she can't get there. I watch Reddington carefully as he walks over to his chair.

"Bonsoir," the waitress says formally.

"What would you like to drink?" Red asks me as if he thinks I don't speak French.

"Verre d'eau,"I tell the waitress. Might as well have water, I'm pretty sure that this would be classified as a business dinner.

She nods at me before turning to Red. He answers her in fluent French. He orders a scotch.

"I didn't know you could speak French," Red tells me as she disappears.

I just shrug. "I wanted to learn so I taught myself. I also know Russian," I tell him.

"To the future," he tells me as he raises his glass towards me. I take my glass of water and clink it against his.

He gives me a weird, sort of paternal/avuncular-type smile.

"So tell me about your job. The Profiling."

I just gaze at him mutely. I've been reviewing his profile in my head since I first saw him. I haven't written any of it down, but it's memorable anyway. He's been Profiled dozens of times, but not by me.

"I'm fascinated," he says with a weird glint in his eyes. "How close to the truth do you think you can really get?" he asks me.

I take offense to the question. It's pretty damn close if I have anything to say about it. I keep my face impassive despite the indignation I'm feeling.

"Tell me my Profile," he says as he brings his hands to the table after adjusting his sleeve.

Hmmm. It's tempting, but I'm sure we have prying eyes and ears in here somewhere. "And why would I do that?" I ask him.

He just gives me another smile.

"You've heard the debriefs, you've read Kessler's book reports. I _so_ want to know how you see things."

"Why do I find myself under the suspicion that you are more curious as to how I see _you_ than how I see '_things'_?"

"_Make him squirm, Liz. You get under that skin of his and make him squirm_," Gabriel tells me.

The only thing that can make a man like Reddington squirm is emotion. I sit straighter in my chair and look him straight in the eyes.

"You're a loner. You are trapped by the events in your past, which makes you incredibly isolated. The primary emotional bonds of your former life are severed so you have no grasp of genuine, intimate connections. You're trapped underneath the debris of a collapsed former life. You keep your distance from others from the fear that they might be used against you. The idea of someone close to you getting killed because of what you do would be the only thing to absolutely horrify you. Loyalty is all-important. Your 'friends,' the people you surround yourself with, are complete strangers. You're comfortable here with your glass of Scotch, but you'd be just as comfortable in a cave sleeping with rebels. But I think, perhaps most importantly, that you are seeking something your heart longs for but it's something that your mind tells you cannot have."

"And what might that be?" Red asks me calmly, drinking a bit of scotch.

"Redemption," I tell him simply. I continue on with the profile, "You _are_ a conflicted man, Mr. Reddington. And you hate that about yourself because it can make you vulnerable. And you hate vulnerability, which is expressed by your inclination to sit against the column. And you chose to repent to me. You didn't give me a choice in the matter, so you fear rejection. For some reason, you think I'm you're one shot. You think I'm your chance at redemption. You need me and you hate that about yourself because it makes you vulnerable. You're tired; you just want to be able to sleep at night. You've spent your life thinking that the next one could be it. And since you're sick of it, you want a lifestyle change. You tell yourself that helping the FBI is another fun adventure but it's more than that. It's so much more than that," I say.

"You're one of the few that regrets what they've done. You know that everyone dies and that being sorry and being buried alive in grief is a far worse punishment than death or anything the government can do to you. I can't claim to know what exactly happened to you, but I can say that if given a second chance, I don't think you would have traveled down the same path. Maybe I'm wrong; maybe I'm just speaking from my desperate need to see the good in people, even the ones who act so horribly. But you're here for a reason. You stepped out of the shadows for a reason. And however _flattered_ I am about it, it's not just to speak to me."

Gabe just whistles in my ear.

I lean back in my chair and give myself an imaginary pat on the back. "_And your contact is the coat check attendant_," I report to him in French. "W_hen you become a parent, everything loses its subtly. Just like I'm not the one with at least four Agents watching him_."

"What about your husband? Does he know you as well as you know him? Does he know about you as a child? Does he know about the fire?" He looks at my scar as he asks me this.

"We both know I didn't get this scar in any fire. It's too uniform and it's an unusual spot just for one little burn. Had I been burned in that fire, it would have been more extensive, wouldn't it?"

"_Yeah, Liz. But what about your husband?" _Gab asks playfully in my head.

"My husband is the only person in my life that I feel wasn't obligated to love me. And yes we know each other — we are both trained in psychology so it's kind of hard to keep secrets. As for my past, he knows what I know. Speaking of that, if you think you can come waltzing into my life just because you have answers about my past, you're wrong. I have my own family now — the past is gone. I'm not going to ask you questions anyway because I know better than to look for answers where I'm not going to find them. My mother's sperm donor's life as a criminal was more important to him than I was. Good riddance."

"_Burn_!" Gabriel says like a kid. "_Excuse the fire pun."_

"Please excuse me for a moment," Reddington says as he gets up from the table.

I make my way out of the restaurant. He's leaving this place and so am I. As I do, I can hear the fire alarm going off. I find the oh-so-obvious surveillance van and start to walk towards it.

As I do, Ressler grabs me by the elbow and halts my journey.

"Easy, Ressler," Gabe tells him warningly.

"What the hell was that?" I ask him heatedly. "You sold him out!"

"You let him go!" Ressler complains as we restart the way to the van.

"I let him go? Who notified RCMP?! You compromised our asset!"

"He's number four on the Most Wanted List, Keen! What did you expect?!" Ressler yells at me. I'm getting really tired of his attitude.

"You want to know what I expect?!" I shout. "I expect him to be in the damn van," I tell him honestly.

Ressler opens the van and there he is. "Hey guys," Reddington greets us.

Ressler jumps into the van and grabs Reddington by the lapel and shoves him to collide with the back of the van.

"You knew he'd never show!"

I lurch forward and pull Ressler off Reddington. Gabe immediately runs forward to help. It takes some doing.

"Stop it, Ressler. It's too late. His contact is long gone," Gabe tells him.

Ressler just fumes.

"I left payment in my hat in exchange he left a photo of the assassin's next victim," Reddington reports as he draws a picture out of his hat and hands it to me.

"Floriana Campo?" I ask. "The human rights activist?" There's got to be more to this.

"There you have it. A solid lead delivered exactly as promised. Find Floriana Campo, you find the Freelancer. Not bad for a day's work. Let's celebrate."

"We got Campo to agree to change the venue of her Charity Event," Ressler reports to Gabe and myself as I look up at the evidence boards.

"Good," I say absent mindedly as I continue to look at the board.

"What's it telling you?" Gabe asks me.

"Straightforwardly: that the woman's a saint. She's spent her life and millions fighting sex trafficking. Her husband was killed by the Eberhart cartel three years ago."

"The Eberhart cartel is the most ruthless cartel in Europe. What we know is that the leader killed other cartel leaders to extend his reach. Survivors tell stories of torture and forced addiction. Whoever killed Campo's husband hired The Freelancer to kill her."

"And we've done everything we can to knock the Freelancer off balance. We've changed schedules, travel routes, venues. But I have a feeling that this is the type of guy who's got back up plans for his back up plans," I tell him.

"He's going to have to get through our security to pull it off," Ressler tells me.

"Let's just hope that it's enough."

"But we still don't know what he looks like," Ressler tells me.

"But there is one person who does," I tell him with resignation. I don't really want to be in front of Reddington right now.

"Good luck," Gabe tells me. Without his deal, I have a feeling he won't tell me what time it is even if he did know.

"You said you've seen him," I tell Reddington as the box door opens. "We need your help."

He just stands there with his back to me. He finally turns back towards me slowly.

"Please, understand I want anything more than to help you. It's why I'm here. But I won't say another word until the conditions of my agreement are met. I'm so sorry to bother you with these trivia details, but it's a simple yes or no."

"So be it," I tell him coldly as I turn away. I feel his eyes on me as I turn away.

"Okay. Since Reddington won't help us, we're going to have to do this the old-fashioned way. We're going to be looking for a clean-shaven man in his mid thirties to early forties, with impeccable posture. Despite the attention his murders get, he will not be the same in his private life. He will be a loner, withdrawn. I don't think he'll be there tonight as a man with a lot or money or with a date of any kind."

Before I can continue, Ressler comes out of Cooper's office. "They agreed to his deal," he reports. He doesn't sound too thrilled about it.

Ressler and I go back to the box.

"You got your deal," Ressler tells him, but his eyes are all on me. "We got a list of the attendees."

"He won't be on any list, Ressler. He is the _epitome_ of discretion." I look to Reddington. "You want to go to that party, don't you?" I ask him.

"I thought you'd never ask," Reddington tells me.

We got the Freelancer, but we lost Floriana Campo in the process. Reddington hired The Freelancer to kill her. He succeeded. We both succeeded tonight. The FBI took down an assassin that was unknown of until now.

I sit on a bench and just look at my phone. I look at the photo of me, Gabe and Lanie. We all are smiles and as happy as can be. I never thought I'd make a good mother. I didn't have the privilege of growing up with one. It was just Sam and me. I hate being away from Lanie. She's five years old. She doesn't need me away all the time.

"You look tired," Reddington's voice suddenly fills the silence of the dawn. "Go home. Get some sleep," he tells me.

"Sleep is something that never finds me easily," I reply as I stroke the scar on my forearm. "We were able to rescue the girls. The information you gave us was good," I tell him.

"She preyed on the weak and innocent while dressed in the wings of a savior. I detested everything about that woman."

"I knew that there was something off about her, but I didn't know what."

"We never truly know anyone, do we?" Reddington asks as he stands up and buttons his tuxedo jacket.

_What the Hell is that supposed to mean?_


	3. Chapter 3: Wujing

**Chapter 3: Wujing (No. 84)**

I sit at the dining table and just stare out of the window.

"Are you okay?" Gabe asks me.

He had to sit down with a psychopath who stabbed him and _he's_ asking _me_ if I'm okay. This is why I love this man. He always puts other people before himself.

"Yeah. Fine. Why?"

"It's just that Reddington comes into our lives — Zamani comes into our home. That's a lot of intrusion of personal space. It's a lot for anyone to take, Liz. I want to make sure that you're okay — that you're _going_ to be okay."

"I'm not one of your projects, Gabe. I'm your wife and if I need to talk to you, I will," I tell him as I rise from the table and throw my jacket on over my purple blouse.

"You see? This is what I'm talking about. You're under stress, I know. But I don't want you bottling it all up, Liz. I can't let you live like that. Don't shut me out. Please."

"But why would Reddington send Zamani into the house?" I ask. "He already had what he wanted. He had his deal with me. I just don't understand it."

"Liz, you had Reddington nailed nine ways to Sunday in Montreal. You know how he works more than you think you do. But you can't and won't figure out all the answers within two weeks of meeting the man. You can't believe anything we know about him. He's shrouded in mystery and falsehoods."

I just sigh. He's right. This isn't his fault. "I know."

My phone suddenly chimes with an incoming new text message.

"Is that him?"

I just nod.

"Be careful."

I follow his instructions to a hat shop. I see Reddington in the corner of the store trying on fedoras.

"An opportunity has come our way," he says when he notices me come into the store.

"Yesterday, the Chinese killed a CIA agent in Shanghai. They took his computer, which they thought could decode a message they intercepted. It couldn't. They've asked me to help."

I just look to the store clerk like: "Hello? We're not the only ones in here."

"Oh! Roderick is a dear old friend."

Well, if Red is not going to pay any attention to him, then I won't.

"So let me get this straight. You're decoding CIA messages on behalf of the Chinese?" I'm pretty sure that the offense in my voice is nothing compared to the offense I'm feeling. I get that Red is a globetrotter, causing international messes and such, but he used to be one of us. He used to stand for his country and now he does nothing but for his own gain and amusement.

"You make it seem like treason: so black and white. It's not. It's green. The fact is: American secrets are for sale by an assortment of reputable venders, myself included. If I don't do this, someone else will. The man paying me is called Wujing."

_Oh, him._ Everyone in the Federal Government has heard of him, but he's a ghost. He's undetectable. He's a notorious spy killer and secret-seller.

"I've already forwarded them your cover," Reddington tells me.

"Cover? What cover? You know my history, Reddington, so tell me where did you see that I'm a decryption expert? I know nothing about it!"

It's true. I'm not the world's best computer-user.

"Carolynn Gibbons, PhD in Applied Physics from MIT."

"You're asking me to betray the life of an American Agent? Maybe you can do that, but I can't. I'm not you, Reddington. I can't betray my country."

"This is a guy who the Intelligence Community has been talking about as if he were a figment. I'm giving you the opportunity to grab him. Now, the good news is that he isn't even in China. He's right here in your own backyard. Play your cards right and I can still make Lisbon before breakfast."

"WDCJ: a small radio station five miles from here. The building was bought by a corporation fronted by the Chinese government," Reddington reports.

"But if I do this, that means the Chinese will know the asset's name as well," I say aloud.

"Then the race begins," Reddington replies.

"We try to save him while the Chinese try to kill him," Gabe says from beside me. "We could lead the Chinese in the wrong direction. Then again, they might not know what the message contains, but they know what it isn't."

"Dr. Keen is right. We do this for real or we don't do it at all," Reddington says.

"Okay…" I begin, "But everyone here is missing one important detail: I know nothing about encryption."

"I can help you with that," Gabe says.

He sets me up with a tech who spouts out a whole lot of gibberish. I don't understand any of it. He talks of "magic boxes," and "data lockers."

I have no idea what I'm doing.

Once we're clear of Wujing and in front of Red's hotel, we just sit here in his Mercedes in awkward silence.

"You didn't have to kill him," I tell Reddington.

"I believe I will always do whatever I feel I have to do to keep you alive," Red tells me.

Oh, are we finally starting to see some emotion? By George, I believe we are.

"Why?" I ask him.

"Because of your father."

The question is: is he talking about Sam or the man who produced the sperm to create me? I don't hold a whole lot of warmth for the man. He abandoned me when I was around four years old. Three years old is when cognitive abilities are in place. It's the year when memories are able to be stored. That's my problem; I have no memory of my life before Sam adopted me. It's all gone. That's why I can't afford to live in the past. It's so broken that I wouldn't even know where to begin to clean up the pieces.

"Did you know him?" I ask.

"I wish the answer were as simple as the question seems. But the truth is, the question isn't simple either."

"What'd you do, kill him? An answer you are unwilling to give has nothing to do with its complexity. One thing I've learned about humanity is that you can never put anything past anybody. You act like it, but we're not the same. I've got a family: people who care about me and rely on me. But you — this is all you have."

"I have you," he tells me.

I just laugh. It's the only reaction I can think of to do. "You cast yourself into a world where friends don't exist. You only have associates. You realize and acknowledge that those people can turn on you in an instant. You're so used to everything being trades and negotiations that you think you can put your foot in my door and get whatever you're looking for with the promise of answers. You think that you can keep me frustrated and thirsty enough for answers to keep you around. I'm here simply because you put me here. It's my job. You asked for a Profiler, so a Profiler you get."

I get out of the car and just begin the walk back to HQ. I need the air. I need to clean space for thought processing.

When I get there, it is dusk and by the time I file the paperwork and update Reddington's profile that I've recently began writing down, I grab my keys and drive home. I get there to see that Gabe isn't and Melanie is being watched by my Mother in-law.

**Gabe's POV:**

I walk underneath the overpass to see Reddington standing there with his back to me. He is standing alone, but I'm sure Dembe is not far behind. It's not like Red has to worry about anything. I'm not here to hurt him. He and I have a very common interest.

"Hello, Gabriel. It's been too long," Reddington tells me without turning around.

"That it has, Red. That it has."

"I've been happy with you, Gabriel. You treat Elizabeth well."

"You didn't call me out here to discuss the Husband Handbook, Red."

Red finally turns to look at me. "No. I did not."

"If you're here to tell me that Liz is in increased danger because you're here to solve some unresolved issue with her, don't bother. I already know. Just like I know you sent Zamani into my house to remind me. You act like I don't know that it is my job to take care of my family — From any and all dangers. I'm her husband, not some asset you hired! You haven't been here, Red. I have. You aren't there when she dreams of fires and wakes up screaming. I am. I'm the one that's there, Red! _I am_!"

"Well, I'm here now," Red tells me.

I just scoff. "But in what capacity? You want something from her, that's obvious. If it's something from the past, forget it. She's asked me to try to tap into it, but it didn't work. I've tried anything and everything that's in my tool belt and nothing. Her memory has been tampered with and she knows that. We might not be experts in that field, but we're not stupid."

"I never said you were."

"Look, Red, just be prepared to have her do the one thing you could probably never stand her to do."

"And what might that be?"

"Care. You two are going to have a messed up relationship. She's in more danger because of you and she's still going to want to rescue you from whatever danger you're in. You're going to matter to her. Which scares you more than anything. By the time your deal is over, you two might have a better bond that she and Sam ever did. You won't be just a commodity to her. She Profiles the hell out of you, Red. She's good at what she does."

I turn around and make my way back home.


	4. Chapter 4: Jacob

**The Stewmaker-Courier-Gina Zanetakos-Frederick  
**

_A:N/ Warning: Things are fixing to get AU!_

**_THE BLACKLIST_**

"Where'd you go the other night?" I finally get the nerve to ask. I haven't had the guts to ask him until now. "I came home and you weren't here. I didn't get a call from you, not even a text."

"I was at Lowes with Dad. They had a leak and we got the tools to fix it. Turned out to be a bit more than a leak, but we managed to repair it," he replies.

"Well that's good, I suppose," I say. I don't buy it. I don't buy this at all. If he's going to lie to me, I'd hope to God he'd do better than this.

"If Dad and I hadn't gotten to it, it would have costs them thousands in water damage."

"We'd better get going," I tell him. He's going to be late getting to his job and I'm going to be late getting to the task force. I have a court date today, so it's a nicer suit for me today.

I'm going to take the stand against Hector Lorca.

I get to HQ and begin to look over my notes and Profile of Hector Lorca. I get a knock on my door to see Aram standing there.

"Agent Keen?" he says. "Dembe made contact. Mr. Reddington wants to see you."

Aram is always so polite, so respectful.

**THE BLACKLIST**

I walk throughout the park I often take Melanie to and find Reddington sitting on a bench in a light-colored suit. Dembe is standing right next to him.

I sit on the bench next to the one he's sitting in and bring out my phone to play with as a prop.

Reddington picks up the folded newspaper next him and begins to read. "'It was only through the efforts of an FBI Profiler that suspicion began to fall on Hector Lorca, leading to his arrest and indictment. Well done, Lizzie. I'm proud of you."

I hate it when he calls me Lizzie. I never liked it when Sam called me Lizzie. I've always been that way. I'm Elizabeth or Keen. NOT Lizzie.

"Don't call me Lizzie. So you must know that I'm due in court in three hours."

"What I know is that your case is about to go sideways."

"What? How?"

"Lorca's people reached out to me. Normally, I wouldn't give him the time of day. He's a vicious little drug lord thug, certainly nothing there to hold my interest. But the request is of great interest because it concerns you. He's asked for a new identity, a plane ticket out of the country and the proper introductions to move his business elsewhere. Lorca is under the impression he's about to become a free man."

"I've got a witness testifying who has him cold."

"Something is going to happen, Lizzie. You're not going to have a very good day in court at all."

"Don't call me Lizzie," I tell him before I get up off of this bench.

"Shall I call you Elise?" Reddington asks me before I can walk off.

I haven't heard that name in a long time. That name is associated with a time of my past that I wish to forget.

"No."

**THE BLACKLIST**

A juror is dead. My witness is dead. My case has gone to hell. Reddington warned me. Which is why I'm on the phone with him right now.

"Hundreds of people have disappeared and no bodies have been found. These people never got to say goodbye to their loved ones."

"Did you say hundreds? And no bodies have been found?" he asks me curiously.

"Why? What are you thinking?" I ask back.

"You should go home, Lizzie, pour yourself a chardonnay. Your witness is most likely dead. I think you know that. If what you're telling me is true, then you'll never find him, either."

"You think it's the Stewmaker, don't you?"

"What do you know of him?" Red asks me curiously.

"Only rumors. He sets up shop using plastic sheeting and duct tape to cover the walls and does his business in the tub. There's never any biological trace. No prints, no hairs — nothing."

"Call the plumber."

Red graces us with his presence soon after our little phone call.

"You don't know how to find him, do you?" I ask Red after he gives his take on the Stewmaker.

"No."

"We have Lorca in custody. I bet he knows."

I meet him in the Interrogation Room.

"Mr. Lorca, things have changed since the approval of the Patriot Act. All I have to do is say the word 'terrorist' and then all your laundered drug money will have no use. You seem like a pretty closed-off businessman. You like to keep things close to the chest? Well, you give us the name and location of your contact we know as 'The Stewmaker' and I'll see what kind of deal I can cut you."

He doesn't budge.

**THE BLACKLIST**

My entire body hurts. It seems like it's my blood and bones that are on fire and not that chopper. I can feel the bits of asphalt embedded in my skin, the tenderness from the lack of skin. I faintly hear the sound of Spanish words as I feel my body being dragged across the asphalt.

**THE BLACKLIST**

The Stewmaker falls to the ground in front of me. I look and see that Reddington has punched him. Red has a feral ferocity in his green eyes. I hope to never see that look from him again. But as soon as the Stewmaker falls, Red comes up to me. He resituates my body in the wheelchair. He gingerly places my feet on the footrests and wheels me away from the room I'm in and faces me the opposite direction.

Yep. I know what's going to happen now.

"A farmer comes home one day to find that everything that gives meaning to his life is gone. Crops are burned, animals slaughtered, bodies and broken pieces of his life strewn about. Everything that he loved, taken from him. His children. One can only imagine the pit of despair, the hours of job-like lamentations, the burden of existence. He makes a promise to himself in those dark hours. A life's work erupts from his... knotted mind. Years go by. His suffering becomes... complicated. One day he stops.

The farmer, who... is no longer a farmer... sees the wreckage he's left in his wake. It is now he who burns. It is he who slaughters. And he knows, in his heart... he must pay. Doesn't he, Stanley?"

"No, Red," I tell him. It's always the people around us that hurt from the decisions we make.

"Maybe she's right," Red begins. "Maybe it's never us who solely suffer from our grievances. Maybe he could change. Maybe he is not damaged beyond repair. Maybe he could make amends to all those he's hurt so terribly. Or maybe not."

When I hear the splash of liquid, I know that the Stewmaker is stewing in his own creation. Honestly, that's the way he probably wanted to go.

It's not much longer when the house is assaulted. Gabe and Ressler come into the room and Gabe immediately makes a beeline for me. He carries me out of the house.

The medics vet me, but they want to take me to the hospital for a full psychical to make sure there will be no after effect of the paralytic. I highly doubt there will be, but they want to make sure.

Red comes up to me with a giant scrapbook. It's Kornish's trophy book. It'll be useful in notifying families.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" I ask him.

"I did," Reddington tells me.

"Well, that's something to come out of all of this," I tell him absentmindedly.

Red just stays silent.

"What you said in there — I agree with it. I don't think it's ever too late for anyone."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because you justify what you did by saving me. I became a profiler to understand people, to understand what makes them decide to do what they do. People always wanted to know why I wanted to be a profiler. They wondered why I'd want to spend my life focusing on the bad in people. My response was that there is never any one person that is good or bad. We are shaped by the things we've experienced. There is good and bad in all of us."

**THE BLACKLIST**

As predicted, there is nothing wrong with me so it's a quick trip through the hospital. I'm back home and as happy as that makes me, I know I have to confront Gabe about what I think is going on with him. After I get Melanie to bed, we go back into the kitchen and sit at the breakfast bar.

"Do you work for Reddington?" I ask Gabriel.

"What?" he asks back in shock.

"I said, 'do you work for Reddington'? I don't believe that your family's house had a leak."

"Yes, I work with Reddington, but not in the way —"

"Not in the way I what — think? Why don't you just tell me in what way you work with 'The Concierge of Crime!?"

"To protect you. He reached out to me the moment we starting working together in Nebraska. **_He did not hire me_**_._ He doesn't pay me. I am here for _you_ — not him."

"Why wouldn't you tell me this?" I ask him. The pain in my voice can't help but to be displayed.

"He asked me not to."

"And it's as simple as that?" I ask. "I want you gone. I want you to go upstairs, tell Melanie that you're leaving for an indefinite period of time and I want you to leave."

"Liz, don't you doubt me for a second. Please. Nothing about our life is a sham. I love you and I love our beautiful daughter more than anything in the world. I have been fighting to protect you since Nebraska and you know that. You know that deep down, had our life been anything other than real, you'd have sniffed it out in a heartbeat. Liz, I love you. I've wanted nothing but to keep you safe since the moment I laid eyes on you."

I just begin to walk up the steps. I go straight to our room and towards the closet where my burnt bunny is. It's my source of comfort. It's my comfort object and it always has been.

"Liz, please!" His voice is getting closer and I hear his weight on the steps.

"Do you know the connection between us?" I ask him once he arrives in the bedroom with me.

I have the burnt bunny in my hands.

"He won't tell me."

I'm sure Gabe is able to see the discouragement on my face. If he's been with Red this whole time, what else has he been hiding? He knows everything that I know about myself — albeit it's not very much but I still told him. I feel like I don't even known him anymore.

"Liz, this changes nothing. An identity is worth nothing and you know that. I don't care if your name is Pearline Knickerbottoms, you're still Liz to me — and you will always be Liz to me. Hell, you were a thief named Elise when we first met! You are Melanie's mother and you are my wife. I know who you are, and a name won't change that. I'm sorry for this, I am. I'm only working with Red to keep you safe. I take no part in what he does beyond you. _You_ _and Melanie are and always will be my first priority_."

"I'm sorry," I tell him.

Gabriel just crosses the room and takes me in his arms. "No, baby. I should be sorry. I could've told you, but I didn't."

We stayed in contact as best we could while he was in the Middle East with the PsyOps crew. It was mainly letters and some Skype, but it was never enough for me. I always wanted to really see to him.

I've loved him for a long time. I know that. More importantly, I've trusted him for a long time. He could have arrested me in Nebraska, but he didn't. He was in his rookie days when he went undercover with me. I was pretty much a criminal. I at least knew more about it than I should have. He was tasked to seek out a team of terroristic bank robbers who were responsible for the death of dozens of people. Needless to say, I helped him out.

**The Blacklist**

Gabe and I are working on mending our relationship. Trust is something not so easily mended for me. It's hard for me to trust someone – anyone. Since he confessed to his relationship with Reddington, I have been sleeping in the guest room. I just didn't feel comfortable sleeping in the same bed. Don't get me wrong, I still love my husband, but what he has been doing is a sort of betrayal. Reddington gets to everyone. You can always tell what waters he's been in because they get quiet and calm. That's something I noticed when I was Elise. Let's just put it that way. I have an old scrapbook filled with some clippings of that time. It's simply a reminder to never go back there. I have impulse control. I resist the urge to go back to that. It was quite the life, very thrilling and full of surprises, but I'm a mother now. I'm on the other side of the tracks now.

I update the profile on Reddington. It's my job. It's what I'm here for. I am a FBI Behavioral Specialist. Yep. FBI Profiler. Thinking like a criminal comes easier to me than most agents, probably. The higher-ups don't need to know that, though. Speaking of Reddington –

"I know about you and my husband," I tell him when I enter his hideaway. It's obviously the place of an author. Books and papers are strewn about everywhere.

"Hello, Lizzie," Red tells me.

"Nothing to say? How long have you and Gabe known each other?" I ask. It's probably going to be in vain.

"The Courier," Red begins.

"Ah, yes. The man that helps conduct business for those who cannot trust each other," I observe.

"The psychical embodiment of fear and violence," Red inserts.

"He's charged with moving something and you want it: what is it?" I ask, getting right down to business. "How do we even find him?"

"I can help you with that. I know the man he is planning on delivering the package to."

**THE BLACKLIST**

I'm outside at four in the morning after we found Seth. We got there in the nick of time. Seth was about to die in that hole in the ground. Working with Red is probably going to kill me. I'm either going to completely lose my mind from the stress or I'm going to die in the line of duty, chasing down the terrorists he sends me after. I tried so hard not to light the cigarette that's between my fingers right now, but I couldn't help it.

My life has never been my life. It will never be my life. Nothing belongs to me. It never will. My life right now is so split up. I have to balance the life I lived as Elise and then I have to live the life of a mother, wife and then I have to live the life of an FBI Agent. Red was right, it is hard to balance it all. I'm doing the best I can. That's all a person can hope for, isn't it?

Right now, in this moment, I'm more of the FBI Agent. I hear a rustle in the bushes and my hand goes directly to my firearm that I pretty much now carry everywhere. This Mama Bear is going to protect her den. Working with Reddington has made me even more paranoid. I put my cigarette out against the brick wall before I draw my weapon.

"You said you were going to quit," A voice says from the bushes.

"Jake?" I question. I haven't heard that voice in years. We worked the odd job together back in the day. I'd heard the name every now and again, but I never thought he'd show up here.

"What the Hell are you doing here?"

"Good to see you too, Lease. Or Should I say, Elizabeth?" Jake responds. He's still the slightly scrawny-looking kid I knew him as.

"Good work in finding me," I tell him.

"That's why I'm here," Jake begins.

"Who are you working for these days? You still on with those IRA Captains? Nah, you seem like more of an Eastern Euro guy to me," I tell him.

"I know who you're working for now," he responds. "So do my employers."

"I work for the government, so I can arrest you right here, right now," I tell him.

"But you won't," Jake challenges. "Because if you take me down, I'll take you down. Elise Hartford is still on the loose."

"Elise Hartford no longer exists."

"But she was on fire when she did," Jake tells me with a wicked smile.

"Jake, that part of me is dead. I have different priorities now. What are you doing here?"

"I'm here as a warning."

"Warn me about what?"

Jake doesn't say anything more. Instead, he just goes back into the bushes he came from.

"Jake?! Jake!"

Well, Jacob Phelps was just in my back yard. And he just warned me.

This has got to be Red's fault.

Damn that man.

**THE BLACKLIST**

I don't know whether to tell Red about this or not. I want to see how deep this goes. I don't know who he is working for and I don't want to present the case without knowing anything. I don't even know what cover he is using right now. I only know who he really is. With the kind of work he does, that's useless.

Red has sent us after Gina Zanatakos, a company terrorist.

We're sitting at the park after I find a photo hidden in Zanatakos' apartment. That photo is of Jacob Phelps.

I hand the picture to Red.

"I found this picture in a go bag in her apartment's ventilation duct. I know who he is. He's an old friend of mine. His real name is Jacob Phelps: he's a deep cover operative, so his real identity will get you nowhere. I don't know who he works for. Last I heard, he was in Ireland. He came to me last night. To my house. He said that he knows who I work for and came as a warning."

"You are trying to find someone, aren't you?" I ask Red. "I don't know why I keep asking you questions, it's not like you're going to honestly answer them."

"How deep did you go as Elise?" Red suddenly asks me.

"Far enough. Because of that, I don't know who I can trust. I don't know who I am. I don't know my past. I'm drowning under everything. I'm drowning under the things I know and the things I don't know – the things I don't remember. I just wish I could fully trust someone."

"You can trust me," Red tells me.

He suddenly brings his hand forward and grasps his around mine.

**THE BLACKLIST**

A knock at my office door alerts me to the presence of Aram at my door. I wave him in. He has a giant manila folder in his hands.

He gives it to me and I open it. There is a smaller folder in there.

_From Seth. _

The writing is in bold, red, sharpie, so I know who it's really from. This is the favor he cashed in from the NASA Analyst. He used his favor towards me.

He must really want me to be able to trust him. Maybe, he does truly care about me.

I look through the file of a murder of a Russian tourist. _Pssht._ Judging by the look of him and his posture, this is no tourist. If Jake killed this man, he's working for the Russians.

After I glance through the file, I make my way to Red.

"The guy you're looking for is Russian. If Jake killed Fokin, it's because he was no tourist. Someone didn't want that man to defect. Judging by his photos, his posture, Fokin was someone who knew something."

"What makes you say that your friend works for who I'm looking for."

"Why else would he insert himself right now? I'm working for you. How that information got out, I'll be hard-pressed to find out. This is to be the beginning of a series of things happening because of you. I know that. I knew that the moment I signed on with you, I was placing myself in danger."

I don't like the look he has on his face right now. I think i'd rather see the face he gave the stewmaker than this face. This is the face of a man who has been tormented. This is the look of a desperate man. This is the man that I know is always resting underneath the surface of Red Reddington, the Criminal. This is the face of Red Reddington, the family man. This is the man that was capable of having a life. This is the man he was before life got in the way.


	5. Chapter 5

**Barnes/Ludd/Garrick**

* * *

Previously on The blacklist:

_"__Why else would he insert himself right now? I'm working for you. How that information got out, I'll be hard-pressed to find out. This is to be the beginning of a series of things happening because of you. I know that. I knew that the moment I signed on with you, I was placing myself in danger."_

* * *

"So tell me to go, Lizzie," Red says as I stand here and look at him. "Say the word and I'll be gone."

I don't have to mention the chip in his neck. Raymond Reddington could cease to exist in 60 seconds.

He suddenly gets up from the couch he was sitting on. He walks slowly towards me.

"You might not like me, or understand how or why I do what I do. But I'm here because you want answers to questions you haven't even thought of yet."

I bite back the scoff that is bubbling its way into my throat.

"You're here because you walked into my life and demanded to speak with me. Maybe you do what you do because you're a good guy deep undercover or you're a good guy who found himself drawn to a life where rules and ranks don't matter. Maybe you were someone important to me at one time, but you got swept up in a world you couldn't control. Maybe you killed the real Raymond Reddington and took his place. Maybe you gave up your life as a family man to live with an impenetrable cloak around you. But I look in your eyes and see an undying and unrelenting adoration for me. When you look at me, you do so with a history I don't know. So maybe you do what you do to protect me. Protect me from the past I don't remember. And in saying that, I do not buy the fact that you'd be willing to just walk away."

Red is unfazed by what I just told him. He just continues to stare at me with intense and fierce green eyes. He is right smack dab in front of me. "I'm not going to beg you to allow me the privilege of helping you. Tell me to go, Lizzie. I'll get in my car and you'll never see me again."

I can't find it within me to find say something…anything. With the way he looks at me, there is no way he could truly just leave me alone. The only way he'd leave is if I'm protected. He would never leave me vulnerable. Not after all he's done for me.

At my silence, Red just nods.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

I just make my way to the door.

* * *

**LUDD:**

I follow Red's chip to somewhere in suburbia. I go through the house and end up in the garage to find Red and Luli sitting in the garage with what looks to be a soccer Mom. Around the garage hangs counterfeit money. It looks like it's decent quality. This is no ordinary soccer Mom. She's a bit on the Artist side.

"What's on your mind?" Red asks as he walks towards the swing set that is in the front of the house.

"Prints pulled at the residences matches Nathaniel Wolf. Someone changed his face."

Red ignores my report on the case thus far.

"I understand your father is not well. The cancer? It's come back."

"Who the hell told you that?" I ask him.

Dad called me this morning and said he was getting tests done. He didn't say anything about the cancer's return.

"You should be there with him."

"I can't just leave when you're here."

"Maltz," Red suddenly says as he propels himself forward on the swing.

"What?"

"Abraham Maltz. The best kind of surgeon for this kind of business."

* * *

**Gabe POV:**

Liz's Aunt June just called so I'm packing clothes for myself and Melanie while I'm talking to Liz on the phone.

"He hasn't been telling you the truth, Liz. He's apparently sicker than he's led you to believe. He's in surgery now. I'll book you the 6:15 for tomorrow. You'd be in Nebraska by noon."

"Gabe? Thank you."

"No problem, babe. I love you."

"Love you too."

I turn around to see my Liz mini-me looking up at me with sad blue eyes — The blue eyes of her mother.

"You ready, munchkin?" I ask her.

"We gonna fly, daddy? In a plane?"

"That's right, honey. We're gonna go see Papa Sam."

Taking a child through the Airport is probably not ideal, but Melanie doesn't give me or the TSA any problems. She walks through the metal detector like a champ. She clamps onto my hand at the take off, but the fear quickly turns into amazement as she looks out the window.

We arrive in Nebraska and make way directly for the hospital. I get there and ask a nurse at the desk where I can find Sam. She gives me a sad look and I know. I know we are too late. There's no way he could have gone that quickly. Not from the time we were called until now.

Something had to have happened.

Or someone.

Reddington.

He's always the first suspect, isn't he? When it comes to something about my wife, especially.

Melanie shouldn't be here right now, so I take her out of the hospital and we walk around the campus and we stop at a coffee kiosk.

As I watch my daughter play and feed part of her donut to the pigeons, I think how on Earth am I going to tell Liz that the closest thing she's ever had to a father is now dead? How am I supposed to tell her that? I know she's got an important job to do with the General Ludd case, but she's going to blame herself for not getting here on time.

I just sit here watching my daughter until I lay eyes on Reddington who asks if he can sit down.

I'm sure I have the what-the-hell-are-you-doing-here face but I quickly contain it. We're in public after all. Right now, I'm not a Federal LEO and he's not a criminal. We're just two guys having coffee. We're just two guys having coffee that know exactly who each other is and what went on in that hospital. Since I've just laid eyes on him, I know that he killed Sam for sure. Sam has kept who knows how many secrets from Liz and Red wanted to protect them.

"Visiting someone?" he asks me conversationally as he joins me in watching Melanie.

I just look at him and sigh. "I've been sitting here thinking about how I'm going to tell my wife that the closest thing she's had to a father is gone." I rub my face with my hands and sigh.

"It's hard to not say goodbye," he replies.

Time to cut the crap.

"If you keep going the way you are, you will lose her — we all will. The only lesson Liz has learned out of life is that she can't trust anyone but herself and so she will put herself in a situation that is pertinent to that ideal. She's incredibly self-controlled. I have seen her shut off different parts of her personality and turn on others. From a psychological standpoint, she's fascinating but speaking as her husband, it's terrifying because I know that any point, she will walk out our door and not come back. She's that type of person. With her biological parents, and now with Sam, all she's known of life is that people leave her and so she keeps people out from feeling that pain again."

Reddington just stays silent.

"I was there when you two were in Montreal. I heard every word she said to you and read your body language. You can't deny that what she was saying to you affected you. It hit you hard. Liz has a tendency of doing that. It's not hard for her to figure out where to poke a sharp stick. You keep something in mind, Reddington: Blood's not all that it used to be."

"Maybe not," Reddington replies as I stand.

"And if you keep up this nonsense of lying to her, don't think that I won't hesitate a moment before I tell her what I know you did in there," I say, pointing towards the hospital. "And yes, you could consider that as 'blackmailing' you."

I stand up and summon my daughter.

"Who was that man?" Melanie asks me.

"No one you need to know."

**Liz's POV**

My phone rings when I'm in the car with Ressler. It's Reddington.

"Lizzie, how are you?" he asks me sincerely.

"Not a good time," I reply as I try not to hit my head against the window of the swerving SUV. I'm sure he can hear the revving engine and squealing tires in the background.

"Sorry. I was just thinking about you and wanted to see if you needed anything."

This is suspicious. Sure, I'm flattered he's thinking about me, but then again, he was probably already thinking about me.

"With the case?" I ask as I brace myself for another turn.

"With your father," he corrects. "Are you gonna make it home to Nebraska?"

"All planes are grounded," I say.

"Not mine. Lizzy, are you sure there's nothing I can do for you?"

"No, but I appreciate the offer. I have to go. Bye."

Sam died. The man that took me in and raised me as his own died. He's all I ever knew. He's the first person to show me love. He was it. After I get back from the funeral in Nebraska, I meet Reddington back at the soccer mom counterfeiter's house.

"I should've known when you agreed to help us catch Wolff that you would take something for yourself. We didn't think he could access the safe on the truck, but he did. And he swapped the original drive for a counterfeit, and when we arrested him, he didn't have it."

"I'm sorry about your father."

"You aren't going to derail me."

Red just ignores me.

"How was the funeral? This is going to be a difficult time. The best way to keep the memory of your father alive is to talk about him. Tell me some stories."

* * *

**Anslo Garrick:**

I hold the bunny in my hands. It's the only thing I have left. It's the only thing I have left of the life I knew before Sam.

Flashes of fire come before my eyes. A man's hand in a glove. Reaching for me. Pulling me out.

That's all.

That's all I've ever gotten. I've tried Hypnosis. Gabe's tried all kinds of tricks. I've done it all expect the psychopharmacology route. I'm not doing that willingly. Too much risk.

I get up from the couch with a sigh. I have to go to work. After I'm dressed in a suit, I pull my hair back into a ponytail.

I arrive at work and parking in the underground parking lot. I get out of my car and make my way to the guard. I hand him my ID and he swipes it.

All clear.

I take the lift up and before I can reach the main level, the power goes out. The lift doesn't move and the lights go out.

Is this what I think it is?

Has the post office just been breached?

I bring out my phone to see that I have no service.

Yep. Houston, we have a problem and I'm stuck here in this damn lift.

Not for long.

There's no way I'm breaking out of this box from the front or the sides. That leaves one place: up.

This isn't my first rodeo.

First things first: Take out the signal blockers. We have to have service to call in the Calvary.

— But before that, my ass needs out of this sweatbox.

I take off my boot and use it to bust one of the ceiling tiles loose. I hop up and use my arm strength to haul myself out of here.

One problem down…only a thousand more. I bring out my firearm and secure the area where I dropped from the lift. There's nothing. The party must be happening elsewhere. There might be no hostiles here, but there are downed friendlies. I walk up to one of them and grab their radio.

"Keen here," I say into it.

"Keen, do not try any form of ingress. Hostiles have the high ground."

Not for long.

"Dr. Keen and Reddington are unaccounted for. Presumed down."

No…This can't be happening.

Oh, this is so going down.

These guys have no idea who they just pissed off.

I throw the talkie down. It won't do me much good if I'm making racket while I'm trying to sneak my way in here.

I go about the Post Office and look for the signal jammers. I've found two so far and manage to break them. On my journey, I see a couple of guards and I take them out silently. I wait in shadows until one is in front of me and I snap his neck like a twig.

He never saw me coming.

I grab his vest and everything else he's got on him.

The next one gets his throat slashed by a knife I picked up from the first guy.

I'm not exactly a merciful person sometimes. Guns would make too much racket and call attention to the fact that there is a wrench in their perfectly oiled machine.

I hear a British voice through the talkie that I got off one of the hostiles.

"Bring me every piece of explosive ordinance they have."

The armory. They must have taken the armory.

Fuck.

Well, I at least have enough knives and guns for a small army.

I go about looking for more signal jammers when I run into Aram.

"I've taken out two of the jammers. Is that enough?" I ask him.

"Yes!"

"Shh. Plan now, celebrate later."

"Listen to me," I tell Aram in a maddening whisper. I go through the supplies I have and find a pair of night vision goggles. "Go to the back-up generator and wait for my signal, then cut all power. We're going to take care of these sons of bitches," I tell him. "If anyone tries to stop you, shoot them, do you understand?"

"I've only shot at paper."

"Pretend they're paper."

We get our radios up and on the same channel. All of a sudden, I'm grabbed from behind. I manage to break free from the hold and put a bullet in his head. I've just brought my location to attention so I've got to get out of here quickly and quietly. I've got to make my way back to the Box to get Red, Gabe and everyone else out of harm's way. He said that he'd do anything to keep me alive. I can only return the favor.

I thank god we're in some bunker and not some elite office building. There are pipes all around. I quickly run to the nearest one and trace it's way up. It's an easy enough climb. I've climbed harder things. I parkour my way up and towards the two pipes that run parallel. I make sure I'm aligned properly and I roll down the pipes. I freeze when I see two men running towards what is probably the armory. I've got to take them out. Like a monkey, I hang myself down by my legs; I take my service pistol and my backup and fire at the same time, terminating both guys at once.

"You okay, Liz?" Aram asks me through the com.

"Fine," I whisper. "On my way to the Box. How many hostiles am I looking at?" I ask him.

"Four, I think, and Garrick."

I might like those odds. I continue to travel towards the Box keeping as quiet and moving as quickly as I can.

"All right. Do you have eyes on me?" I ask Aram quietly.

"Yes."

"Okay. As soon as I drop, kill the power." It's about a ten-foot drop to the floor. _Land with the knees bent and roll._

I take a deep breath and put on the night vision goggles and ready my weapons and plunge to my fate. As soon as I do, the power goes out. Seeing as I'm barefoot, I manage to land somewhat quietly. Like Aram said, I see four hostiles and being double wielded, I should be able to take them out easily. This is a big room. I never really realized that until I had to breach it. Breach? I have to breach a room in our own building.

I start firing and they fire right back at me.

I get clipped in the shoulder, but continue on. Finally all that is left is Garrick: The reason we're in this mess.

"Hello, my monkey wrench!" Garrick says jovially into the blackness.

I sneak up behind him. "I see you," I tell him while I put a knife to his throat. "Drop the gun or I'll end this right here, right now," I whisper to him in his ear.

"Light us up," I tell Aram from my radio. The generator-powered lights come back on.

"On your knees," I tell him.

"I don't think so," he tells me in his British accent.

I lower my weapon and shoot him in the calf. Suffice it to say that he is now on his knees. I'm going to make him suffer the same fate as Luli who is lying dead beside us. I don't give him the chance to say anything before I fire a shot into the back of his head.

As he falls to the ground, I look inside the box to see Reddington and Gabe there.

Red just stares at me. There is an enormous amount of relief on his face. He is shocked, but it's mostly relief.

"Aram, we're clear," I tell him through the com. I go around and cut everyone's zip ties. The Assistant Director immediately goes to the keypad and unlocks the Box. I run forward to check on Gabe.

He's unconscious, but breathing. It looks like Hell in here.

I quickly find myself getting patched up in an ambulance when Red comes out of the building.

"Why did you do that, Lizzie? You could have been killed," he says when he reaches me.

"That was not my first breach."

"You are to never do that again."

"What? Protect you? Sorry, but it's kind of my job."

I suddenly can't see anything but black and I'm shoved further into the ambulance.

I hear the sirens and people shouting out orders when they take the bag off of my head. I look down to see Reddington there on the gurney.

They're taking his chip out and I was his reason for being near the ambulance.

I see the defib paddles right next to me so I'm totally going after them.

They're fixing to get a good dose of me.

I zap the nearest guard and manage to get his gun.

I shoot the driver and the ambulance swerves, causing me to fly back. The paramedic opens the door and I fly out the back.

Ow. Ow. Ow. Ow.

Dammit!

Without my interference, they will have gotten his chip out by now so there is no point in trying to chase him down.

* * *

Politics. Politics. Politics. I hate them. I hate Fowler. She's all pissy because we lost Reddington. Something is not right with her.

I'm working with Aram at one of the desks. I'm waiting to hear back from the hospital, Gabe isn't out of surgery yet.

"Got any Uber-freaky Right-on Profiler tips?" Aram asks me with a hopeful tone.

I flip the switch on. "Garrick knew about this site, which means he would know about others. He's got an inside source, probably."

"You mean a leak?"

"Yep."

We look through old files of decommissioned black sites and see one for Hollins Ferry Road.

That's the address. I don't look back as I run.

"Keen!" I hear Cooper and Ressler shriek.

I get into my car and hightail it towards that address.

I get out my guns from the trunk and prepare to breach. It's apparently too late because when I get to a certain room in this hellhole, I see Garrick dead on the floor and no Reddington.

He's gone.

I tell Cooper as such.

He's not too happy about it, but he's just going to have to deal.

* * *

After that's all said and done, I get Lanie out of school and we go to the hospital. This isn't the first time my daughter has seen her father in the hospital. It probably won't be the last. Reddington will kill us. He will take something from this family.

As Melanie is coloring in the corner of the room, my phone rings.

"Hello?" I answer it.

"Lizzie," Red greets me.

"Red," I say with relief. "Where are you?"

"Gone for a short while," he responds.

"Red? Thank you, for saving Gabe's life. He's out of surgery and stable."

"Good. Lizzie, I want you to know that wherever I am, whatever I'm doing. If you are in need. I will be there."

"You have to go, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Be careful out there."

I don't ask him the question that is burning my mind to pieces, because I know that I won't get a straight answer.

_Are you my father?_

That question could be taken multiple ways. It could be answered multiple ways.

He wouldn't answer me honestly anyway.


	6. Chapter 6

Episodes 11-14

* * *

**Good Samaritan:**

My phone vibrates against the countertop of the kitchen counter.

_FBI Mobile Psych:_

_The Good Samaritan._

Gabe just stares out the window that is above the sink. He's staring at the surveillance team that has been following us both around. This is going to be a constant reminder of the breach I successfully underwent at the Post Office. I hand him his cane.

"Who was that?" he asks me.

"Mobile Psych. The Samaritan is back."

Gabe knows about my history with this guy. One of his victims died in my arms. I watched as she fought for every last breath she had until she finally gave up.

"Go get him, babe," he tells me.

I hate to see him once again incapacitated. This time is a bit more serious. He's on a cane and is going to be for a while. He almost lost his leg. I'm getting really tired of having people I care about in harm's way.

Because of Reddington.

Because some criminal just had to hop into my life and take it for a ride.

Speaking of Reddington, I haven't spoken or seen him since the day of the incursion. He's probably out seeking his revenge. I probably would be.

Seeing as I'm not with the mobile unit anymore, or a full-fledged Quantico-based Profiler, it's going to be hard to get the team on this case, but seeing as this case is important to me, it'll be important to Reddington.

I tell Cooper as much.

It's enough for him to bite at the bait seeing as Reddington's retrieval is most important right now.

Unfortunately, after I get out of Cooper's office, I see IA there waiting for me.

Great. This is going to be as pleasant as getting an enema. I'd rather give birth again.

"Have you had contact with Reddington?"

The rest of the conversation reminds me of Charlie Brown. _Woa. Woa. Woa._

I get back into the house to see Gabe asleep on the couch. The pain meds they gave him knock him on his ass. They would probably knock out a bear.

My phone vibrates in my hand and I go outside to answer it.

"Hello?" I answer the unknown caller, even though I know who it is.

"Lizzie —"

I don't ask him the question Coop would want me to because I know he won't answer it.

"You okay?" I ask him.

"I read about that poor woman in Albany. The Good Samaritan. You're back on the case, I hope. This one is important to you, isn't he? Why? What on Earth happened?"

"One of his victims died in my arms. I just sat there and watch her fight for every last breath and then give up. I had this guy Profiled to a T, Red. And still nothing. His victims reminded me of abuse patterns. Thought he might be someone who works with kids or in the medical field."

"You'll get him, Lizzie."

He's telling me goodbye.

"Be careful."

* * *

I walk into my house and see Melanie playing in the living room floor.

"Mommy!" she greets me with a giant grin.

I pet the mass of brown hair that I find at my crotch. Melanie's little arms are wrapped around as much of me as possible.

"Hi, baby. Where's daddy?"

"He's taking a shower."

A movement catches my eye on the back porch. If Gabe is in the shower, who the hell is in my backyard right now? My hand makes my way to my waist. If this is Jake, I swear I'm going to put a bullet in his ugly mug. "I'll be back in a minute. Stay here and play. I'll be back to cook us some grub, little bug."

"Okay!" Melanie does as she's told and continues her playing in the living room floor.

I walk out back to the patio to see Red sitting in one of my patio chairs.

"What are you doing here?"

I appreciate the fact that he is leaving Melanie alone. Any association between the two would be costly. He obviously knows this.

"How did things go with your case?"

I stay silent. I finally got the bastard.

"Congratulations. I'm proud of you."

"Are you back?" I ask him.

"I don't know," he says wearily. I can tell he wants to be back. What for, I cannot say. "My house is clean. Yours is not."

"I know. I hope it is Fowler. Vile woman," I say.

Red jut laughs. "So we're back where we began. Me speaking with you."

I'm flattered.

"Well, then. Welcome back. Where have you been anyway?"

Red just laughs. "Out and about."

"I'm sorry about whomever it was in your network that betrayed you."

Red just acts casual about what I just said. "You've said it yourself. I surround myself with associates who can turn on me in an instant. You graduated top of your class for a reason, I see."

"What are we going to do about Jake?" I ask him.

He just looks at me with those green eyes and I can tell that he's a bit lost. "I don't know. But be careful of him. Protect your family, Lizzie. Any time you see him, notify me. I'll leave you to your life. Be safe."

* * *

_[SKIPPING ALCHEMIST]_

* * *

**The Cyprus Agency (no. 64)**

The restaurant we're in is a bit out of the Keen financial reach, but we don't have to worry about it because the Senator is taking care of it. Gabriel and Senator Daniel Hodgkin have been friends for a long time and golf together ever Sunday afternoon. It's quite a good friend to have in this climate. And the fact that Hodgkin is actually a good, clean politician is good as well.

"Can I get your drink orders?" the waitress asks after we're seated.

"I'll have a scotch on the rocks," The Senator replies with a mischievous little smile.

"And you ma'am?" the waitress asks Becca, Dan's wife.

"I'll have a glass of Pinot Noir," she replies.

Gabriel orders a glass of brandy and I'm the only one of the group that doesn't get an alcoholic beverage. I just simply get water.

I can't drink. Not for a good few months.

Gabriel doesn't think anything of it. He knows that since Melanie was born, I don't drink as often as I did. I'm not one for putting myself into a position where I can lose my family. I know that I'm in no danger of becoming a drunk, but since my father abandoned me, I promised myself a long time ago that I would never do something like that to my daughter. I would never leave her nor would I ever let her go.

When our waitress comes back asking for our food orders, I steer clear of the fish.

In case you haven't figured it out by now, I'm pregnant.

I just found out this morning in fact.

It happened before the Anslo incident. That's the last time Gabe and I were intimate. He can't exactly tear up a bed with his leg being like it is.

To answer your unspoken question: No. Jake is not the father. I dislike Jacob. We spoke of getting out of that life, but he went further in. I gave it up to be with Gabe. I gave up that world before it ate me alive.

What this will do to my job, I don't know. I really could care less. I'm not the kind of person to put anything above my family. I wasn't brought up in the right way for that. Boy, my father sure put a world of hurt on me, didn't he?

A night out with the Senator is always fun. They truly care. We need more politicians like Dan up on the Hill.

After the sitter leaves, I can't help but to check on Lanie to make sure she's all right. Sure enough, my baby girl is lying there on her bed with her arm hanging off of the bed. I've seen her sleep like that multiple times, but I always place her arm back on the bed. This night is no different.

I walk back towards the bedroom to see Gabe in the process of changing clothes. I just lean up against the doorframe and stare at the muscular man who is mine. Though he is the reason I was almost arrested when I was 18, I've been madly in love with him ever since.

"Are you just going to stand there all night?" he asks me with a smile. His hazel eyes shine with humor.

I smile, but it quickly fades away.

I can see him working his PsyOps mojo. The gears in his head are turning so fast that they're smoking.

"What's wrong?" he asks me.

"I'm pregnant," I answer in a rushed breath.

Gabriel just smiles. "Really?" he asks as his grin grows.

"Really," I say.

"Isn't that a good thing?" he asks me.

"Of course it is, but I don't see how it's going to work with work. Does that make sense? 'Work with work.' That's weird. Odd," I sputter out. I get like this when I'm nervous.

"Hey. Hey, calm down," Gabe tells me as he gimps towards me. He takes me into his arms and pulls me tight against his cotton-covered chest. I breathe in his scent and take it in. It's better than any prescription anti-anxiety medication I can get from a doctor. "We'll figure it out, okay? First thing you need to do is let Cooper know. Then maybe tell Reddington. Hell, he probably already knows."

"But, but —" I really have no idea on what I'm going to ask him.

"Hey. You're on the Task Force to talk to Reddington. That's why you're here. You're a Profiler, not a field agent so it's going to be okay." Gabe pulls me away from him and his eyes search mine.

"Gabe, Reddington changes things. We're not safe. You've been attacked twice. I've been blown up, shot at and had to breach our own building. I've been tailed everywhere I've gone since Garrick. By us and another team."

"So have I. It's Red's team," he responds.

"I know I should know better than to ask you this, but do you trust him?" I ask.

"Only where it concerns you."

"How can we bring a child into this? How can we bring a child into a life filled with violence."

Gabriel looks at me seriously. "Because we must."

I don't really feel like showering tonight. I'll shower in the morning. I'll shower on the morning I'll tell my boss that I'm pregnant.

I have a simple little request: pray for me.

Please. (?)

* * *

After I get out of the shower, I'm greeted by the smell of breakfast cooking. I slept in a bit later than I usually do and the morning sickness is nothing to be coveted.

_Ugh,_ I think as I flush the toilet, sending my vomit swirling around.

After my teeth are brushed (again), I grab my hairdryer and get to work. Gabe walks into the bathroom, completely unconcerned by my half-dressed state and places a plate of eggs and bacon on the counter for me.

He gives me a kiss on the cheek. "It's a good thing the general population doesn't see you like this," he says as he laughs.

I just give him a face as I attempt to push him out of the door. It's a bit hard to do with a hairdryer in my hand and a piece of bacon hanging out of my mouth. Multitasking like this, I'm not exactly intimidating.

Gab just barges forward and gives me a kiss on the lips, taking some of the bacon with him. "Love you," he tells me before he leaves.

"Hey, it's not cool to tease the woman overflowing with hormones!" "Foreplay!" is my response.

I laugh as I grab the nearest thing I can reach that isn't food, which is a bar of soap, and chuck it at him. I miss, but hitting him wasn't the point.

I'm out of the bathroom, now with flat hair, dressed, gussied up and with the clean breakfast plate in my hand. It's a miracle how a few minutes in the bathroom can make such a difference.

I bring the rest of my breakfast in the kitchen with Gabe.

"Why haven't you given up on me yet?" I ask him. "Who signs up for this life? You fell in love with a young girl you didn't even know — Who was a criminal. Just to find out that a notorious criminal has been stalking her for her entire life."

"A questions that answers itself," Gabe says.

"Is this all worth it?" I ask him.

I see the confusion flash across Gabe's face like a comet would shoot through the sky.

"Liz, how can you ask that?"

"Because I question it all the time."

"Liz, you know I've known about Red's involvement in your life for a while. I loved you then and I love you now. Argue all you want to on this subject, but I knew exactly who you are. Elise or not. You and Melanie's happiness and protection is the first priority to me. Speaking of Melanie, we gotta to get the lil bug to school."

After Lanie is dropped off at school, Gabe and I head in to the Post Office. I'm nervous as I walk into the Blacksite. With what I'm fixing to tell Cooper feels like I'm walking into a den of hungry lions with a hunk of meat tied to my head.

"Don't be so nervous," Gabe tells me in the elevator. His hands rub against my arms soothingly.

We arrive the war room and we're the only ones here apart from Cooper. The only reason I can tell that is the light that's burning bright against the darkness of the rest of the building.

This is the only reason I don't like being in the FBI: it's a workaholic male dominated profession and they're not likely to be as sympathetic towards situations like this. The fact that he's the Assistant Director of Counter Terrorism doesn't help, either. He's got a ginormous amount of responsibility and counts on his people. The people above him expect results and it's Cooper's job to make sure we deliver.

But it's _my_ job to deliver this baby that's starting to incubate in my womb.

If this doesn't go the way I want, I might have to resign and that would mean that the whole task force would be decommissioned and Reddington would be thrown into a deep dark hole someplace and would never see the sun again. As much as I might not like the man, I don't want that for him.

Gabe breaks off his path with me and goes towards the office that we share. I walk up the stairs that leads to Cooper's office. I knock before I enter.

"Keen?" he asks as I walk into his office. "Here a bit early, aren't you?" he asks me.

"Yes, sir," I reply. My voice is a bit stronger than I though it'd be. "I'm just going to come out and say it: I'm pregnant."

It takes Cooper a second to respond and I don't particularly like the expression he's got on his face. I don't like it at all.

"Well, this certainly complicates things," he tells me.

"With all due respect, sir, why do you think that? The only reason I'm here is to speak to Reddington; we both know that. I can still meet him and from here, I can still perform my Profiling duties. That's what I'm meant to do. I'm not supposed to be a field agent."

"We'll talk more about this later," Cooper tells me.

"Yes, sir," I say before I exit the room.

I take a deep breath before I descend down the stairs of Cooper's office. Gabe is down there waiting for me.

"I take it that it didn't go so well," he comments dryly.

"He said 'we'll talk about it later,' so the subject is apparently not closed."

"Well at least that's something."

"I used your argument against him so he'll probably come around," I say.

"My argument?" he asks.

"Yes, you're whole 'you're only here to speak to Reddington' spiel," I reply, trying and failing miserably to sound like my husband.

Gabe just laughs as he pulls me close. "Ah, _that_ argument."

My phone ringing dampens the mood as I look and see that it's Nick's Pizza sending me a text.

"I've gotta go," I tell him.

"Remember Liz, he has no say in your life. Don't let him stampede over you."

"I won't," I say before I leave.

I meet Red at what appears to be some sort of empty lecture hall.

"There's nothing more profound or of everlasting consequence than the decision to have a child. The exploitation and perversion of that decision is the stock and trade of a truly evil Organization: The Cyprus Adoption Agency."

_He knows. He already knows._ "You son of a bitch. You son of a bitch. You know. Of course you know. My life is my life and you have no say in it. You have no say in it _what—so—ever_. You have no right to meddle, to tell me what to do! It's me that's been living this life, not you. Ever since I was four years old, my life has been a royal screw up. And now that I'm _happy_ and finally where I _want_ and _need_ to be, you want to take that away from me because of this Russian? No. I won't let you." I move to get up and before I can make it out of the aisle, Reddington's hand comes up to stop me.

"This case involves children, Lizzie. Something you might be sympathetic towards —"

"What's the matter, Red? Feeling —" I begin to ask him if this is bringing back feelings for him about leaving his own family. He's not one to be talking about caring for children.

"This isn't about me, Lizzie. This is about children who are ripped from their mother's arms and sold to new families."

Hmm. Now he might have my interest. The Profiling part of me flicks itself on and gets to work. My brain is revved up, ready to go. "If there were child abductions, the police would have been called. Unless the women couldn't —" I just look to Red. "They're not abducting these babies…they're farming them. I'm assuming they have a forger?" I ask.

"One of the best. Well, I'm biased. He's _my_ best. The Cyprus Adoption Agency offers a promise. Something very special: perfection. Their clients are ordering from an unlimited genetic menu of the characteristics of the child they want to bring home."

"So what's in the file?" I ask him.

"The next child about to be sold."

I open it up to find the beautiful picture of a baby boy with blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

"And you don't know who he is?"

"No, but he's about to become the child of David and Wendy Rowland."

"Red, about this, about me — it doesn't have to affect our situation. I'll still talk to you. I can still do my job. I just won't be out in the field as much."

"It's not 'our situation' that worries me. It's timing."

I know he won't tell me what really bothers him so I don't even ask him. "I just wanted you to know that."

I get up to leave but when I reach the door, Red's voice comes from where he's sitting.

"Lizzie? As much as this complicates things, I am happy for you."

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience," I tell him before I stand up.

He and I don't really speak much more on the subject or about any subject for the rest of the case.

* * *

**Madeline Pratt:**

I meet Red at his newest Safe House, some gaping mansion.

"Lizzie," he greets me in surprise. "Lizzie, I'm sorry about our last case and the impressions you took from it."

I just scoff. "You're only concerned about the fact that I said that you think of a child as an inconvenience. But tell me, Red, when is there a convenient time to have a child? I was in Turkey when I found out I was pregnant the first time. Scared the hell out of me. Here I was this woman who never knew her parents suddenly going to become one. Here I am again... pregnant. In the midst of what obviously is going to be a war."

"I'm sorry for your suffering."

i dont think that that he consciously meant for my life to take this route, but he's the reason it has.

Red then gets on the topic of relationships and Madeline Pratt. Oh, Madeline. She would so be Red's type.

She's a fellow thief.

Red makes my history with that particular gig known at the briefing.

"What's he talking about?" Ressler and Cooper ask me once Red is done.

"You don't want to know," I reply.

"If we didn't, we wouldn't ask you," Ressler says.

I concede to tell them. It's bound to come out sooner or later. "Fine. You really want to know? When I was younger, I did some things that were slightly in the grey area."

"Just how grey are we talking about, Keen?" Cooper asks me.

"Elise Hartford, grey."

"You're telling me that you are Elise Hartford. The fugitive thief wanted by Interpol?" Ressler asks in surprise.

"Yes, sir. That's what I'm telling you."

"Why is that not on your background? How did you escape notice?"

"I was good at what I did and the person that was supposed to arrest me, married me."

"Gabriel —"

"Yes. Gabriel Keen was a rookie agent at the time and was tasked with assignment to find me and use me to bring down a herd of terroristic bank robbers. Elise Hartford disappeared did she not? Rumors flew about regarding her retirement, did they not?"

Ressler and Cooper just look at each other.

* * *

Red uses me to get in with Maddie. I'm going to be working this with him. Just like any other case. When I get out of the car, a wave of nausea hits me.

"You okay?" Red asks me.

"Fine."

"You don't have to do this, Lizzie. Not if you are unwell."

"I'm pregnant. Not sick."

* * *

"The job. It's yours."

"I don't want it. Call someone who does," I tell her as I head for the door.

Getting Maddie to give me the job was too simple. I just had to palm her phone and like a person buying a car, act uninterested.

"What if I paid you double?"

If I'm going to do this, I might as well get paid for it.

* * *

Red and I walk out of the house.

"All right. Spit it out. What'd you do to her?" I question as soon as we are out of her ear's reach.

"What makes you say that I did something?" Red asks without looking at me.

"Because she seems hell-bent on revenge. Her giving me that job was too simple. You stood her up, didn't you?"

"I don't see how that's relevant. And your reputation as Elise is something to take into account," Red says.

"Oh, you so did," I say. "Starting to regret walking around with a Profiler aren't you?" I ask rhetorically as I get into the car and leave.

Time to go to work. Get the Syrian's badge. Get Aram to skim it.

Next thing I know, It's time for the party to get started.

I'm waiting downstairs in the house Red is current hosting. I'm in would be nothing Liz Keen would wear and everything that Elise Hartford would wear. Despite the past it digs up, being her has its moments. The wardrobe is one of them.

Since I'm in cahoots with Red Reddington, I figured Red is the safest bet. I'm wearing one sleeved red dress that is form-fitting and sequined. I kept my eye makeup simple, just a thin line of black eyeliner with a slight cat eye and some false eyelashes. The hair was also something I kept simple. Just wavy. Red lips are a must and a slight dusting of blush on my cheeks finished the look.

Red's voice gets closer. I look up into the mirror and he has a look of shock on his face. He looks proud. He kind of looks like a father sending his daughter to prom. I look to see him standing in the threshold in a tux.

"Wow!"

He catches himself after a moment.

"Nice clutch."

_Uh-huh._

"You're going?" I ask him, gesturing the tux. "Is that a good idea?"

"Some of my best friends are Syrian."

"You keep saying that you don't have friends," I argue and it's the truth.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"I'm flattered, but Madeline just seems hell-bent on revenge. Whatever she has planned won't be too bad, I reckon."

"You don't seem too anxious about it," Reddington tells me with a smile. He can't take his eyes off of me and it's weird. It's like being stared down by a brick wall.

"Won't be the first time I know I'm walking into a trap," I say with a shrug. "You ready?"

We arrive at the gala. My arm is folded through Red's and together, we descend down the stairs.

"We have two minutes," I tell Red.

"Fret not. Let's have a little fun," he replies. He picks my hand up and asks, "Shall we?"

I'm a terrible dancer. Not because I can't dance, but because I like to lead. I'm too much of a control freak.

"Lizzie, this must be very difficult for you, but we both can't lead," Red tells me.

"The job is simple. I'm just a control freak. So you and Gabe? You knew that I was helping him and you what? Made him stay in my life?"

He doesn't look like he wants to answer the question at first, but since I'm not Profiling him or anything, he seems a bit more relaxed. "I didn't hire him, no. I just reached out to him when he was working with you."

"So I really have you to thank for no arrest record?" I ask him. "I kind of figured that."

"That and yourself. And Dr. Keen's feelings for you."

There is a small pause.

"Gabriel is a good man, Elizabeth."

I just laugh. "I know that or I wouldn't have married him."

Red just smiles as we just continue to waltz towards where I know we need to go.

"Remember who you are tonight."

"Don't worry about me."

Red just looks strangely at me. He looks like he can't help but to worry about me.


End file.
